


illict affairs

by britishngay



Series: One shots :) [6]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, F/F, Smut, what can i say? taylor swift ruined me with this song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishngay/pseuds/britishngay
Summary: Veronica knows she shouldn’t be doing this.She knows, deep in her gut, that it’s wrong.Because Heather has a boyfriend, sure he’s a complete piece of shit but he’s hers the way that Veronica isn’t.(Or a 5+1 based on illicit affairs by taylor swift)
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer
Series: One shots :) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736749
Comments: 8
Kudos: 146





	illict affairs

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm mixed about this; there are some parts that I really like but I know that's it's not my best bit of writing
> 
> BUT I did enjoy writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it too xx

  1. _“Make sure nobody sees you leave.”_



Veronica knows she shouldn’t be doing this.

She knows, deep in her gut, that it’s wrong.

Because Heather has a boyfriend, sure he’s a complete piece of shit but he’s hers the way that Veronica isn’t.

Yet she’s in Heather’s bed, well, kneeling by the side of her bed as her thighs squeeze either side of Veronica’s head. Her tongue is moving against the other girl, her fingers are knuckle deep in her and moving slowly, curling at the end of each pump, Heather’s hips moving against the rhythm of her fingers. One of her hands is clutching the bedsheets, the other is pulling the bright red pillow against her face so that no noises spill from her lips.

It’s hot and addictive and awful, she shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be enjoying it so goddamn much but is, she _really,_ really is.

All she can smell is Heather, her perfume, her sweat, _her._ A lingering voice in her mind reminds her that Ram bought her for her birthday last year, she remembers McNamara gush about it while Heather had one fixed smile and Duke just watched the food in front of her.

She starts pumping faster, sucking on her clit, tasting her even more, some of her wetness has gone up her nose but she can’t stop now, she’s so close and Veronica’s stopped her cum twice before this.

Heather suddenly stills, making a choking noise in the back of her throat her hips jerks a few more times against Veronica’s mouth and they’re done. Heather pulls Veronica up for one final kiss, she groans into her mouth.

Maybe it’s the fact that she shouldn’t be doing this that makes it so hot.

Maybe it’s the fact that Ram Sweeney is the worst person she’s had the luxury knowing and fucking his girlfriend gives her some fucked up sense of revenge that she can’t believe she has inside her.

She lies on Heather for a second, legs dangling awkwardly off the edge of the bed, lazily kissing her, Heather’s arms resting on her back, pulling her gently closer. It’s in one of these moments where Veronica thinks she can forget everything else and focus on the feeling of Heather’s lips against hers, but then her phone starts ringing and they stop, leaning back slightly. Their mouths so close that Veronica can feel her breathing, they wait for the phone to stop.

The previously warm and almost intimate moment has turned stone cold.

They both know who’s on the other side of the phone.

It gives out and Veronica rolls off her, staring at her ceiling, there’s a crack that lies all the way across the white paint, some of it is flaking. The ceiling is bowed from the attic above them, it’s full of clothes, of Heather’s old toys, of the things that people can’t quite throw away but can’t keep either.

What would happen if the roof caved in right now? Would they find their bodies and know what they were doing? Or would they just assume it was two girls talking about one of their boyfriend’s while the roof fell on them?

The phone starts ringing again and Heather answers.

They don’t look at each other, it takes her a second to walk properly but as soon as she sees Heather turn her head to see if Veronica is watching she stares at the ceiling. She doesn’t need shit from her today.

It started with a glance across a room, cliché but accurate, a glance that set this whole thing in motion. A question in Heather’s eyes and an answer in Veronica’s.

But how they started isn’t important, or even why, the important thing is that they didn’t stop.

Once can be an accident, two is less forgivable but Ram would probably find it hot so Heather wouldn’t be in too much shit, but then two became four times then five and then they didn’t stop.

Why can’t they stop?

Heather speaks in short sentences to Ram, Veronica doesn’t care about what they talk about. If she ignores it maybe she won’t feel that gnawing guilt that sticks in her heart. Heather’s voice rises a little and she glances at the other girl, her back is to her, there’s a bruise on the back of her shoulder from when Veronica bent her over the bed. Crap, she’s not gonna be too happy about that. She turns her attention back to the ceiling. Heather seems like the kinda person who would have a mirror above the bed to watch themselves fuck but then you get to know her, or as much as she allows people to see, and you notice that she only has the big vanity and even then she barely looks at herself in it.

Veronica sighs.

Heather says one final thing, it’s short and curt and Veronica almost flinches, Ram’s ears must be bloody battered from her.

“You need to go.” Her tone stays from the way she talks to Ram, Veronica stands and looks for her shirt somewhere around the room. Just because she made Heather cum multiple times this afternoon doesn’t mean she’s here for the tone she’s speaking to her with.

“Okay kid.”

“I’m six months younger than you.” She snaps, Veronica looks back to see Heather cross her arms, lips pouting and eyes ready to set her on fire.

“Whatever, _kid._ ”

Veronica smiles slightly at the way she can almost hear Heather’s jaw working from the other side of the room, she finds her shirt from under the desk, there’s a whole load of books piled up on one side; The Bell Jar, The Haunting of Hill House, I Capture the Castle – surprising choices, but so is having a woman as a cheating partner.

The reminder of that makes Veronica’s stomach churn.

They silently make their way through Heather’s empty house. It always seems so sad to have such a house so empty all the time but then she remembers Heather’s parents and realises it’s a blessing to have a house empty than angry and biting and hurting and all the things that made Heather how she is.

They walk through the kitchen to get to the backdoor, Heather opens it unceremoniously, she always does, and Veronica leaves into the back garden.

There’s that feeling Veronica has, to give her one last kiss before she leaves; she’s pretty sure that there’s some hidden emotion behind it that she should probably analyse but she’s too caught up in feelings of guilt and self-hatred to do that.

Veronica can tell the weather in Sherwood like the back of her hand, it’s humid, there’s a thick layer of grey clouds covering the sky. It’s going to rain. She’s slightly too hot in her grey hoodie, the one that Heather always tells her to wear so that no one can see her face.

“Don’t forget the hood.”

“No one cares.” But she puts the hood up nonetheless, a little way that they have a routine, a small way that makes Veronica feel safe in no one knowing, she hears the door close behind her before she even takes a step.

She really doesn’t wait a second does she?

She starts walking down the road, two minutes down she recognizes Ram’s shitty-ass truck driving in Heather’s house and the ball of guilt rears its head again.

At least he’s just as shitty a-person as she is.

Right?

\--

  1. _“Don’t call me baby.”_



There’s not really a sign that Heather gives Veronica to come over.

She supposes that calling would make it a little too real.

Normally it comes from Heather giving her a look in class, one that Veronica can’t quite describe but it tells her to be outside Heather’s back door at 8pm in the grey hoodie that hides Veronica’s face.

So that’s where she’s going, she’s walking down Heather’s street, hood up under the moon, smoking to calm her down before she gets to her house.

This part is always the worst. The walking to her house, it just makes her think a little too much, she thinks about Ram’s face if he found out, he would yell and cuss and Veronica would be genuinely scared. She thinks about Heather’s unapologetic cheating, her face when she cums, the way it relaxes afterwards.

She thinks about how much she enjoys the whole ordeal even though a part of her is screaming at her to stop.

But Heather doesn’t meet her by the back door this time, she’s sitting in her car three houses away from hers. Veronica leans down and knocks on the window of the driver’s side, Heather jumps at the sound and rolls down her window.

“Uh, hey?”

“We can’t be at mine.”

“So your car is better?”

“Just get in the car Veronica.”

“Okay kid.”

She throws away her cigarette, walks around the front of the car, and gets into the passenger seat.

“When will you stop calling me that?”

“When your reaction stops being so damn fun.”

Her hands grip the wheel, turning white for a second before she edges away from the curb. She’s not a very good driver, she’s always turning to quick and not watching the other cars on the road. They sit in silence, they know what’s coming they don’t need anything else in the car.

Veronica wonders how they started in Heather’s beautiful red room, with a king bed and comforters and robes that Veronica could take but she won’t on principal because, again, that would make the whole situation a bit too real. And now they’re in Heather’s car, most likely going to the parking lot behind Walmart because everyone else goes to the woods and people could walk by them.

_Classy._

People could handle Heather cheating on Ram, her popularity would take a blow but it’s senior year and people would start to get nostalgic and shit and she’s got one hell of a silver tongue, so it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Her cheating on Ram with Veronica? God, she doesn’t even want to imagine it.

That’s when it hits Veronica that’s it’s dangerous for them to be in public, does Heather want her that badly? Does Heather need an escape so much that she’s willing to risk getting caught?

(It’s also the part when she realises that even though Heather drives her up the wall most of the time, she does sort of enjoy her company.)

Sherwood is boring, even at night. A year or two ago she used to walk the streets at night, she found it more interesting, an empty town in fun to analyse, but then she got used to the night. She got used to walking home drunk, to getting to sleep at 3am.

She sounds so much like a teenager, god it’s pathetic.

Although anything is better than thinking of how Heather is using her for clandestine meetings and how she really actually doesn’t mind being used like that.

The car is silent, Heather’s a shit driver but she knows she’s worse with the radio on. The silence is something rare with her and the Heather’s, they’re always chattering away about something or other but this silence is almost companiable, she feels almost comforted, until the car stops.

She’s right, they end up at the back of the empty Walmart parking lot.

Heather settles on a station that playing some music that Veronica recognizes from one of Ram’s parties and she falls back into her seat.

They stare at each other and they know where it’s going.

It’s the moment before the storm starts, the static in the air, the tension about to suffocate everyone. So many emotions curl inside Veronica, she’s guilty, _so_ guilty, but she wants, she lusts, she hates, she loves, she’s consumed by Heather; by what she does.

They end up on the backseat of her car.

It’s hot, real hot. Veronica can feel sweat droplets forming on her forehead, Heather is flushed in a way that she’s never seen her before and the windows are so fogged up that condensation is starting to form. Veronica’s hoodie was lost an hour ago, her trousers cling to her, one of her bra straps in falling off her shoulder but she barely notices because Heather clings to her shoulders, moaning into the car as Veronica fingers rock against her, her thumb works her clit. Heather’s shirt was lost in the front seats, when she was straddling Veronica, bouncing on her fingers she held Veronica against her chest, telling her through pants that she shouldn’t leave marks but she left them anyway out of some sort of spite that Veronica holds against the other girl. She has half the bloody concealer in Sherwood, it’s not like she won’t be able to cover it up.

Heather pulls her closer, bringing her into a messy kiss, her legs keeping Veronica on top of her. The leather seats of the car sticky against Veronica’s knees, there’s no way that Heather is comfortable with her entire naked back against the seats, her skirt pushed up high, underwear almost falling down her thighs, clinging to Veronica.

Her walls clench around Veronica’s fingers, pulsing tightly as her hips jerk a few times against Veronica, her legs fall off her back. One of them falling into the footwell the other one falling against the backs of her feet.

This is one of their harsher sessions, Veronica not letting Heather breathe in between rounds, just pushing her on her back and making her cum again and again and again until she pushes her hand away. There are dull aches in Veronica’s forearm and shoulder from working her fingers roughly and Heather’s teeth making a mark a while back but the feeling staying the same.

“Fuck, baby,” Heather breathes, her whisper brushing Veronica’s ear. It makes something in her still, ‘baby’ isn’t a nickname reserved for her, she’s ‘Sawyer’ she’s ‘hey, you’, she’s not her ‘baby’. She sits up and leans against the door of the car, breathing heavily. The window is cold against her back but it’s better than the sweltering heat of the car. Heather does the same. They stare at each other letting each other get their breath back.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” She’s smug, her lips curl up while watching Veronica get angrier.

“I’m not your boyfriend.”

Heather’s face hardens.

“Piss off. Don’t call me kid.”

“But it’s so fun.” She teases, Heather’s face goes through all stages of grief before rolling her eyes and answering.

“Looks like we’re at a stalemate.”

“Yeah.”

Heather’s still panting slightly, Veronica stares at her chest, admiring the prolific marks of red and purple and yellow that are scattered across her chest, now and again she flicks her eyes up to Heather’s, she’s simply got them closed as she gathers her breath.

The situation is something she never knew she would be in, sleeping with Heather Chandler is one thing, sleeping with her while she has a boyfriend is a complete other beast.

She’s been so caught up in the feelings in the joy and shame and pleasure that she’s never thought of the one question that she always should be thinking.

_Why?_

“Why do we do this?” She finally breaks the silence,

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck. Why do we fuck? You have someone.”

“I- I don’t know.” Heather admits, not looking at Veronica, her face portrays vulnerability for one second but she quickly covers it with an emotionless expression.

The only noise in the car is their heavy breathing and the soft noise of the adverts on the radio. She finds her bra in the footwell near her and sighs again.

“I’ll drop you home.”

And that’s that, Heather clambers into the driver’s seat, waiting for Veronica to do the same.

Veronica sighs.

What even is her life anymore?

\--

  1. _“They show their truth one single time/ but they lie and they lie.”_



Veronica watches as Heather falls back onto her bed, breathing slightly heavily. She smiles to herself, one of those quiet ones that makes Veronica’s stomach do things.

She’s realised just how beautiful the other woman is.

Heather knows she’s pretty hot, but there’s something beautiful about the way that her lipstick is slightly smudged and she’s panting and that ghost of a smile that she allows herself before kicking Veronica out. Heather’s hands come up and pull her down into a kiss, a soft one, that Veronica doesn’t know how to decipher.

Veronica lays against the other girl, skin against skin, relishing in the feeling of Heather’s lips against hers, softly prying against each other.

Then Heather subtly pushes her back and Veronica knows it’s time to go.

The rejection stings slightly but she knows the game.

She gets up off of Heather and looks around the room for her clothes that they’d carelessly thrown everywhere. It’s cold, not against Heather, not being tugged and pulled closer her.

The room is dark, only the lamp on the vanity on, it’s a wonder Veronica can see Heather’s face at all in the lighting, but she’s always prided herself on her vision. She gets distracted by the bowed ceiling above the bed for a second, she’s always getting distracted by it and she’s never figured out why. She starts walking away from the bed, remembering the vague direction where Heather threw her clothes in a hurry to get fucked.

Veronica walks slowly, too caught up in her head.

She’s thinking of how she’s feeling.

Guilty mainly, the thought of Ram and the perfume he gave to Heather wafting everywhere in her room. Also pain, from the rejection and the idea that there _could_ be something between her and Heather but that it can never happen; she would never give up on popularity and she would never admit to herself how much she actually likes it.

The floor creaks under her feet, it’s an old house, well, as old as a house in the States can be. She knows that the creaking means she’s close to the desk where she thinks is where part of her attire is.

“I want you.”

Heather says it so quietly Veronica almost misses it. She looks up from where she was doing up her trousers and sees Heather wrapped up in her red sheets, eyes cutting into her. Her face is blank as she says it, but her voice and eyes portray enough emotion that Veronica stops and takes a second for the implications of it all to sink in.

“What?”

“That’s why we do this.”

Ah, so she’s still caught up on last time.

What does that mean? That she want her?

She wants Veronica’s fingers, her mouth? She wants her to fuck her or date her or what?

Why is she so goddamn confusing?

Veronica finds her bra dangling from Heather’s desk chair and puts it on, thinking over Heather’s words.

They do _this_ because Heather wants to, Heather always has to have control, Heather needs to be in charge, even if it’s not in the actual moment, she needs it, craves it.

“Okay, how do you want me?” Veronica says it slowly, trying to trick Heather into thinking that she has a vague idea as to where this conversation is going, or that she’s keeping up with it.

“I don’t know.”

“You should figure it out Heather, you’re dating someone.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Heather turns over.

“Bye Veronica.”

She sounds tired, not just from the fucking, but from this conversation, the one that Veronica can’t help but bring up almost every time they’re together. She knows it annoys Heather, she knows that they both don’t have the answers, but she knows that Heather knows more than she’s saying and it really pisses her off. Veronica _needs_ to know the full picture, needs it all.

She sighs, stares at Heather’s bare back for a second then trudges out of Heather’s room. Her words claw at Veronica’s insides, it hurts her in a way she never thought Heather could. Yeah sure Heather can make her angry cry and hurt her through various insults but this?

This is a small rejection getting bigger and bigger and harming Veronica is ways that she never expected.

Heather Chandler is a lot of things; beautiful, cruel, evil, _loud_ and a liar.

But something in Veronica’s gut tells her she’s telling the truth.

And she _wants_ it to be true.

\--

  1. _“A dwindling mercurial high.”_



This time it’s dangerous, but Heather is like a siren in her influence.

Heather gives her a _look,_ when she convinces Mr Harrington to let her go to the toilet, it leaves Veronica hot under the collar for a minute until she forges a note from the office and gives it to Harrington. He gives her a look that he doesn’t believe the note, especially since Heather had just left but he can’t argue with the cold, hard evidence of Veronica’s perfect forgery. Unlike the walks to Heather’s house, she doesn’t have time to mull over her feelings for too long, she’s too busy looking around to see who’s in the hallway and listening as her shoes squeak slightly.

When she enters the bathroom, Heather grabs her and pulls her into a stall, the one in the middle, she locks the door and pulls Veronica against her, bringing her into an absolutely punishing kiss, that leaves Veronica breathless and knows that it’ll leave her lips bruised.

“We don’t have long.” She whispers, grabbing Veronica’s hand and almost shoving it up her skirt.

“In school, really?”

“I’m horny, baby, and I knew you’d come.” She says, smugly. Veronica grinds her teeth together, god she’s so _infuriating,_ and it’s so annoyingly _hot._ Heather finally lets go of Veronica’s hand and pulls her into another kiss. Veronica starts to rub her through her underwear her hips moving against her hand, she makes a noise into Veronica’s mouth, a sigh, moan hybrid that Veronica knows she will never be able to get out of her head. God, she can feel how wet she is through the material.

“Hurry up, you know we don’t have long.” She whispers in her ear.

Normally Veronica would take twice as long because of that but she doesn’t know what on earth she’d do if they got caught, never mind the kind of punishment they’d receive, whatever would go around school would be the real killer, as well as the inevitable telling of parents that the school would have to do.

For the first time since they’ve started, the thought of Ram Sweeney’s fat head doesn’t come up in Veronica’s thoughts, she’s fully consumed by Heather.

She pushes Heather’s underwear aside and sinks two fingers into the other woman, she gasps and Veronica stops the noise with a kiss. The angle is difficult and her wrist is already starting to ache because of it but she starts thrusting her fingers, curling them at any available chance but never at the same point. Heather pulls away and Veronica lies her head against the juncture between her neck and shoulders, she hears Heather’s head thump against the wall of the stall, Veronica moves her hand quicker, trying to speed this up. God knows how long they’ve been in here already.

“That’s right, fuck me baby.” Heather whispers in her ear.

Oh fuck.

Heather doesn’t always talk when they fuck, more often that not, she stays pretty quiet, she moans and sighs, occasionally ordering Veronica to hurry up but now and again, _this_ happens. Heather talks and talks and talks and it’s always so filthy that Veronica can’t help but feel herself getting wetter at every word.

Veronica curls her fingers even harsher and nudges her thumb toward Heather’s clit and starts circling the bud.

“Oh, fuck, that’s right. Right there, Veronica.”

Heather’s hands grip her tighter, she can feel her nails through her blazer, her walls start tightening around her fingers.

“You’re fucking me so good, baby, so good. Don’t you dare stop.”

Veronica adds another finger and Heather’s eyes roll back into her head, the wall is rattling with every movement of Veronica’s hand.

All the time she says baby, Veronica has to bite her lip to stop herself from growling a shut up at the other woman, she just needs to make her finish.

“Shit, harder.”

Veronica obeys, pushing in harder, all the way up to her knuckles, scissoring her fingers curling, pushing in harder and faster and Heather’s legs are around her waist and Heather’s walls are clamping almost painfully around her fingers and she’s cumming between Veronica’s hands and the middle stall in Westerberg’s bathroom. She removes her fingers and pushes her underwear in place, Heather shudders at the sudden feeling of not being filled.

“Come ‘ere.” Heather shakily whispers, grabbing Veronica’s wrist for the second time today and almost shoving her hand into her mouth. Veronica can feel her tongue work around her fingers, sucking herself off of them.

How the fuck is this happening in school? Why not in Heather’s bed, or car, or literally anywhere else?

“Your go.”

“What?”

Heather’s never offered that before, only shows Veronica out, drives her home, shoves her out of the bed and lets her make her own way out of the house.

“I won’t offer again – do you want to get fucked?”

Heather runs her hands down Veronica’s front.

They really shouldn’t, _she_ really shouldn’t, Harrington is probably on the verge of calling the office but Heather’s hands are so close and the way she talks has gotten her absolutely soaking.

Veronica nods and Heather pushes her against the other side of the stall, kissing her harshly again. She untucks Veronica’s shirt and almost shoves her hand down her skirt, she moves her fingers through her folds, teasing, the feeling is nowhere near enough to warrant any other feeling than a want of cumming, and as quickly as possible.

“So wet.”

“Hm.”

“All because of me, baby?”

“Don’t be smug, _kid._ ”

Heather keeps her fingers, idly moving between the folds, staying away from her clit and lightly pressing against her entrance before moving around again. She sees Heather’s jaw clench, like it always does when she’s pissed off, but she still sinks two fingers into Veronica, who brings up her fist to bite into as Heather’s fingers curl almost painfully inside her.

“You like that?”

It’s cringy and boyish and the most cliché thing she could say but Veronica finds herself nodding. Heather’s fingers are long, and they thrust into her slowly, curling and scissoring and doing whatever she wants to Veronica and she finds herself trembling against the stall

At this point she’s normally halfway out Heather’s house or waiting until she can touch the blonde again, but this time, _this_ time Heather is touching her, _fucking_ her and Veronica loves it.

Veronica loves _her._

In a really fucked up way, in a ‘I want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name and I want others to know it, I want everyone to know about us’ way, not the wholesome way Veronica should love her.

And what a fucked up realization to have while being fingered up against a stall in _school._

And she’s so caught up in her head that she hasn’t realised that her face is in Heather’s neck, that she’s clinging to her blazer and trying to hide her moans and she can’t even imagine how smug Heather is. Heather’s fingers hit that one spot in her over and over and over and-

“Fuck, Heather, I’m-“

She gets pushed over the edge, she feels it everywhere, right down to her toes, to her fingertips, she’s warm and sweaty and she feels _so_ good.

“Good girl.”

Fuck.

Veronica never thought she’d have something like a praise kink but the way it sounds in Heather’s voice makes her want to keep getting told how well she’s done. They kiss again, softer this time, Heather smiles slightly into the kiss, not the smug one, no, it seems vaguely genuine. Heather pulls back, one of her hands against the side of Veronica’s face, the one that was inside her is discreetly wiped against Heather’s grey skirt.

“Hey,”

“Hey,”

The door of the bathroom is shoved open and Veronica feels her heart absolutely drop, she has no idea what she looks like but she’s pretty sure that she looks like she’s been fucked.

“Heather? Veronica?” It’s Heather’s voice.

“Veronica’s not feeling well, tell Harrington we’ll swing by the nurse’s office on the way back to class.”

“Oh, okay.”

The door shuts with a heavy thud and Veronica lets out a breath.

“Quick save.”

“Thanks.”

In that moment, something small changed, so small that Veronica barely noticed, but it changed nonetheless.

\--

  1. _“And you wanna scream, don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby.”_



“Baby,” Heather gasps, her hands threading through Veronica’s hair, her hips canting forward against her mouth. Heather really has a thing for Veronica going down on her, not that she’s complaining, she loves the feel of the other girl, loves how she can makes quiver with one move of her tongue, one suck of her clit.

She ignores the way that the word sinks to the bottom of her stomach. When they were in the bathroom Veronica was able to not think of Ram Sweeney, but she can’t escape him this time.

Maybe it was because she was too busy coming to the realization of her feelings toward Heather, and the way she felt against her, inside her, making her come.

She shivers slightly at the memory.

She moves her tongue faster, sucking on her clit slightly, Heather lets out a whine at the feeling, her hands grabbing onto Veronica tighter as she can feel her get closer and closer.

Veronica curls her fingers and Heather’s hips almost whack her in the face but she uses her other hand to push them down onto the mattress.

She’s close, Veronica can tell, from how long they’ve spent endless hours touching each other, knowing where they’re ticklish, where they can shiver with want.

Once Heather made a joke and Veronica laughed so hard she fell off the bed, that didn’t happen again; Veronica’s pretty sure that it’s because she was actually starting to feel vaguely human for once, instead of the mythic bitch or demon queen or whatever nicknames she gets Heather to whisper around about her.

She’s been thinking a lot, shock horror, right? Veronica thinking a little too hard?

Anyways, she’s been thinking, mainly about her feelings.

She loves Heather, almost as much as she hates her, but there’s an overwhelming feeling of guilt that haunts Veronica every time she walks back home after spending hours fucking her. She could vaguely block it out before but now she can’t, even now, she should be focusing on how to make Heather come even quicker, but instead, she can see Ram’s face at the front of her mind. Sometimes, he’s crying over seeing them together; sometimes he’s mad, real mad, mad enough to hurt them.

The main issue being that he knows, in her mind, in this fantasy that she can’t keep her head out of.

Heather pulls Veronica closer, her hips way above the bed.

She comes with one loud moan, pulling Veronica closer, some of Heather goes up her nose but she’s okay with it because she’s pretty sure this is one of the hardest she’s made her come. Heather falls back onto her pillow, letting out a small laugh, one that Veronica knows is good, and doesn’t pull her into a kiss, she just lies down and invites Veronica to do the same.

Another change, one that scares Veronica more because she’s one of those people who needs to _know_ things, she needs to know how Heather feels for her and what it all means.

“That was good baby.”

She gets slightly wet at the compliment but bristles at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that.”

She can’t handle it anymore. She can’t explain why this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back but it is.

Why call her baby? She’s always made it clear about how she feels about her, yet sometimes she seems so ready to kiss Veronica, to let them be _together;_ as opposed to Veronica just fucking her whenever she’s horny.

She sits up in Heather’s bed, swinging her legs over the side and standing.

The guilt has all twisted up inside herself and she breaks, she loves this woman, lying in front of her, and she doesn’t give her the time of day – what fuck is she doing here anyway?

She’s such an idiotic fool honestly, Veronica scolds herself.

“What is your deal?”

“I’m not your baby! Ram Sweeney is your baby.”

“Yeah, well I’m not a kid, and you won’t stop calling me that!”

“Can you even here yourself? You’re cheating on your boyfriend!”

“I know!” Heather almost shouts, she hadn’t realised how loud they had become, thankfully Heather’s alone in here – like she always is. “I know.” She says, calmer this time.

“Why am I here? Why do you want me here?”

Heather sighs.

“Why can’t you let this go? It’s not important.”

“Of course it is, you don’t need me, I know you’re fucking him every other week, why am I here?”

“This isn’t important Veronica.” She stands from the bed, her legs shaking slightly – Veronica takes some kind of twisted satisfaction in being able to do that to her. She ties her robe angrily and walks past her.

“Yes it is, Jesus Christ, how long have you been with him?”

Veronica knows it’s two years, two years with someone and she does _this_ to him, and Veronica just let her.

She helped her, willingly.

Over and over and over again.

Because she wanted to, over and over. Because she doesn’t like Ram and she likes the feeling of Heather. Because she’s feeling things that she’s so desperately trying to understand, to control, to deny.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“God, you’re not even answering my question.”

“Because this is stupid, this is fun isn’t it?” Heather seems to be grasping at straws to control the argument, Veronica’s always backed down before, always let it become nothing, but this time, she’s letting lose, she needs to know.

“Oh, so it’s all just a bit of fun right?”

“Baby-”

“Don’t call me that!”

“I don’t love him alright!” Heather finally shouts back, she seems surprised at herself at admitting it out loud, she takes a second, taking a deep breath, waiting for Veronica to answer.

It’s the silence that’s the killer.

Almost like what she implies from what’s unsaid.

“I don’t you love _you.”_

It’s a lie.

Of course she fucking does – how could she not?

She just says it because she’s sick of it all, of being second to Ram Sweeney, she _knows_ that Heather feels something for her, she doesn’t quite know what it is yet, but it’s something.

Heather’s face turns to stone, she suddenly remembers why everyone is school is terrified of Heather Chandler and her famous glare.

Regret sinks into Veronica’s body.

“Get out.”

“Heather.” She tries to placate.

“Get. Out.”

Veronica brushes past her, almost running out of the house. She puts her hood up, the way Heather always tells her to.

It’s raining.

Good, it can hide her tears as she runs home.

\-- 

+1. _“And you know damn well, for you I’d ruin myself, a million little times.”_

Veronica tries to ignore how it feels like there’s a hole in her since her and Heather stopped fucking, she really does, she starts throwing herself into schoolwork, not that she didn’t before, but it’s ridiculous how much time and effort she puts into essay after practical after write-up after presentation, just to ignore how Heather made her feel.

Those painful, churning emotions of anxiety and guilt and pleasure weren’t fun to feel but they were _something._ But once she was naked with the other woman, everything in her would go blank, she would just focus on _her,_ how to touch, when to touch, when to pull away, everything.

Love hurts, huh.

It’s late, when Heather calls.

Veronica is surprised that she does.

“Hello?”

“Veronica.”

Fuck.

Heather’s voice is clear enough but it’s wavering now and again, she’s either been crying or she’s about to.

“Heather. Why are you calling?”

“Because.”

God, she’s infuriating.

Why did Veronica ever love her?

Oh yeah, because she made her feel things she never thought she would be able to feel.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m calling because I have questions.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine.”

She supposed she owes Heather a little after their final time together.

“Why did you always ask about him? It was never about him.”

“To remind you, or myself, I- I just needed something to anchor myself with.”

“And he was that?”

“Would you rather I brought up Heather or Heather or Flemming?”

“No.”

Veronica waits for her to ask again, she knows that it’s what Heather wants, to slate her, to interrogate her – and she will let Heather have whatever she wants.

“Why don’t you care?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you care Veronica? Why don’t you?” Heather sounds like she’s crying on the other side of the line, Veronica feels her heart tug in pain at the thought of making Heather cry over this.

“I do care Heather, we just can’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re not mine to lose Heather. I’m not yours. He is.”

She hears Heather let out a sob and a sigh, consoling herself before speaking again.

“You’re a godforsaken mess Veronica.”

“Ha, you made me like this.” She tries to joke, Heather chuckles weakly but it’s nowhere near strong enough to distract from the elephant in the room. It’s silent, they’re waiting for the other person to speak. Veronica wants to be next to Heather to have this conversation, she wants to thread her fingers through her hair to calm her down and kiss her one last time but it’s not what they should do.

“I lied, about loving you.”

Heather’s short intake of breath tells Veronica all she needs to know.

“I didn’t, about loving him.”

“I know.”

They wait for the other to speak again but they both know that there’s nothing else to say, nothing that they can get into a five minute conversation through the phone on a Tuesday evening.

There’s an ending.

One that she never knew there would be.

They’re closing the chapter of them, of their twisted romance of hidden feelings and angry fucking behind Ram Sweeney’s back.

“See you around, baby.” Her voice wavers on the baby, she sniffles at the end and Veronica lets out a watery chuckle. She hadn’t even noticed that her eyes started watering and the lump that’s forming in her throat.

“See you, kid.”

The phone clicks and the line goes dead.

Veronica sighs.

And tries to get to sleep.

She’s got school in the morning after all.

And they’ll have to be friends, who can leave their illicit affairs behind them.

No matter how much it'll hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed xx
> 
> If you wanna talk about how folklore is an incredible album - come join me on tumblr at 'its3amandiamverytired'
> 
> Comments are next lvl but I understand if you can't leave one xx


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